


Wet

by xof1013



Category: Queer as Folk (UK)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-28
Updated: 2010-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-11 07:28:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xof1013/pseuds/xof1013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The irony - in how freeing it was for a man who lacked inhibitions, to now drop his last boundary with one pull on a button. And then the next, and the next . . ."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wet

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so Margo begged for a fic. A month later, here it is...sigh. I wanted to give you all a reallllly dirty PWP, keeping with my own descriptive nature. But one that held inspiration from a more "gay" pornish kinda vibe. Meaning down and dirty. Emphasis on the down &amp; the dirty....hehe. You'll see why.... Soooo, here's to Margo - pay VERY close attention to the ending. A big thank you to Alexis for the beta.
> 
> Warnings: Spoilers for UK QAF - most specifically the bathroom stall scene. It becomes an AU-PWP after that.

"WET"  
By Xof  
(August 27, 2003)

 

"Oh, nice." Stuart's voice gasped out in appreciation. He threw his head back, wallowing in the rush - the glow. Feeling a wave of giddy pleasure surging through his body as his attention was pulled back into the moment by Vince's voice.

"I got it off Mickey Blake. He can get anything. He got me speed and all. AND he got me episode three of 'Planet of the Daleks,' in color. The BBC's only got it in black and white, cause they burned it. But Mickey Blake, you just have to ask. He said he could get me episode four of the '10th Planet.' Now that's a classic. No one's seen it since 1966." Vince's rambling prattle ended with his hands housing the warmth of Stuart's face, their mouths close but still apart as the two men smiled at one another.

"There are no words for how sad you are." Said with full affection and not a bit of vehemence or bite, Stuart stood grinning within the circle of Vince's hands, his world off-kilter as his senses burned with a singeing fire that left him free from image, free from care - but grounded by Vince's touch. What Vince had been saying was lost in the act and effort of Stuart listening - not to the words, but just to how his friend's voice sounded as Vince rambled away. Like a secondary high, it lifted his consciousness away from the chemical buzz and back to the enjoyment of Vince.

Stuart's hands hovered over Vince's shirt with an almost touch, drawn in by his friend's closeness. He braced one hand over Vince's heart; it beat in time with Stuart's own pulse. The moment fixed, engaged - as Stuart stared at his fingers plucking at the buttons that helped keep the atrocious garment closed. Orange. Who the hell wore a checked orange shirt to Canal Street? His Vince.... Apparently. The silence broke with an unconscious giggle on Stuart's part. One that he'd never have let see the light of day with anyone else, having a reputation to maintain and all. Grinning and giddy, Stuart laid his head on Vince's chest - rubbing his head back and forth with an undignified snort that didn't help matters.

Vince ran his hands over Stuart's shoulders, closing his eyes as Stuart's dark hair brushed against his skin. The black silk shirt Stuart wore allowed the touch to easily travel from back to waist in one long smooth line. At the snort, Vince laughed and pulled back slightly to tease, "And THIS is the man who's King of Canal Street?"

"Fuck off," Stuart smiled as he watched his hands both working at the buttons of Vince's shirt. Not really opening them, just implying that he was in a position in which he could....

The soft tone of his voice, affectionate rebuke - made Vince laugh as he pulled back enough to see what Stuart was up to; the Irishman circling a tease over his kit.

Stuart didn't look up to see Vince's reaction. He was too focused on the progress his hands were making, fingers hovering over the possibility that lay beneath each button and eye.... Listening to that little voice in his head - the one calling for him to touch, to do what he'd normally abstain from. To vent the want that he'd constantly housed inside through the years. The heat of Vince's skin came through the cloth of his hideous shirt, searing Stuart as he pressed his hand flat on Vince's chest - moth to flame, calling him until he couldn't resist his strongest inclination. Until he didn't want to....

Flying high, even as he was grounded in the need for more. All this in an instant....

The irony - in how freeing it was for a man who lacked inhibitions, to now drop his last boundary with one pull on a button. And then the next, and the next . . . as Vince stood incredulous and frowning, confused.

Three buttons undone and Stuart pushed. Pushed Vince back, pressing him against the wall with his body. Covering his friend with his own warmth, feeling the solidity that was Vince in a sea of Stuart's own body as he floated in sensation shock. Hyper-sensitive in an instant, hyper-driven as he crossed the line. Stuart's desire a secondary jolt, unquestionable and by himself, unquestioned.

Chest to chest, Stuart leaned against Vince with his hands trapped between them. Vince stayed caught in the tackle, still as his hands dropped to his sides . . . eyes wide and questioning, doubting the voracity of what was real. With a glance at Vince's face, Stuart tisked at the slight frown that marred the smile he so enjoyed. He watched his friend's expression when he pressed his hands underneath the open neck of the shirt until his palms were flat against Vince's chest. A wicked grin signaled the Irishman's enjoyment with what he knew he was going to do - no full stop or threat of breaking.

It was that smile, mischievous and sexual, that had Vince opening his mouth to speak. His lips parted, inhaling a breath on the road to finding the words - but no words would come. Vince stood mesmerized as Stuart moved his eyes down, gaze hot as he stared - stared and watched Vince's mouth. Seeing Vince in his nervousness as he raked his top teeth over his bottom lip. As he stood on the brink of saying, voicing a why....

A what....

Getting so close as he started to say, "Stuart, wha...."

Only to be interrupted, stopped by the sound of Stuart's voice, low and sure as he said, "Lick them." Stuart didn't wait for Vince's reaction; instead he leaned in even closer - moving until their mouths were a breath away. His fingers traced the underside of Vince's bottom lip. "Make them wet."

A tick in time, endless as Stuart looked up through his dark lashes at Vince and waited. Then watched as Vince's lips parted on a gasp, the man dazed -"I, ahh.... I...." - unable to act, unable to decide. And then Stuart took the decision away from him. Acting, pressing in as he kissed Vince so softly, so sweet. Holding him locked in as the kiss held, taken slow - reveling in the pressure and the press. Stuart's mind held only one thought, 'Sooooooo good,' as he changed the angle and nuzzled another kiss over Vince's mouth. The moment stretched out as Stuart's lips glided back and forth, at first closed as he swept over Vince's senses like a storm.

With a breath that passed between them, hot and moist - Stuart's voice sounded against Vince's skin. "Wet. Make them wet. I want to see your lips shine." Another beat, and he pulled back to see what Vince would do.... And Vince.... Vince held his courage, didn't look away - and....

Did as Stuart asked.

Stuart watched, not breathing as Vince's tongue swept over his skin . . . leaving a wet shiny trail across his lips. Bottom, top . . . until they were a siren's call that Stuart couldn't help but fall back into, and against. He pressed back, back into the kiss - chasing it, wanting to know the taste and feel of them more intimately than before as he made Vince's mouth his own. Giving Vince back even as he took, until they stood as one, lost as the kiss swept through them - their mouths opened, tongues engaged. Entwined, they panted and kissed, moaned and kissed, tasted and kissed.... Sighed and kissed, until they had to part with reluctance at the need to breathe.

Stuart pulled back to take in the vision of Vince on the cusp. Such a sight he was.... Totally flummoxed, flushed and aroused. It was enough to make Stuart's entire body ache to do more, to do it all.

Vince stood so still, all but for the rapid rising and falling of his chest. He breathed in deeply, leaning back against the support of the stall - quiet, not talking as before. Not knowing what to say.... His eyes held a question, a plea.

Stuart's held the answer.

Moving his hands over Vince's chest, Stuart teased again at the remaining buttons until with a grin he moved forward and stole Vince's next breath with a kiss that shadowed the line of his friend's face from cheek to chin. With deliberate slowness, Stuart licked a tease over Vince's mouth. Over his lips, top and bottom. The touch was not a kiss, just a taste. A taste of Vince as he parted his lips to Stuart's intent, sighing out a moan when the man dipped his tongue inside to meet Vince's own.

Stuart pressed into their kiss, devouring the man even as Vince answered back with equal hunger. Smiling into their contact when Vince grabbed at Stuart's waist, the Irishman hummed a naughty satisfied sound as the possessive touch brought them closer together - their groins meeting as Stuart arched along the line of Vince's body. At the feel of Vince's hard-on, Stuart became more determined. The determination turned this side the edge of frantic as Vince dropped his hands to Stuart's arse. His own hands moving with quick jerking pulls, Stuart opened the remaining buttons of Vince's shirt. He opened and pushed it back until it hung off Vince's shoulders, baring his friend's chest as Vince gasped into their kiss at the feel of his skin brushing against the black silk of Stuart's shirt.

The sound of Vince's surprised pleasure caused Stuart to pull from their kiss and look down. Down at Vince's bared chest that continued to rise and fall with his heavy breaths. His friend's skin was flushed with desire, a state marked also by Vince's nipples as they hardened under the weight of Stuart's eyes. And further down, his stomach moved in and out as Vince began to shake. Caught between the need to show and the need to shield, Vince watched as Stuart looked his fill.

The curve of Vince's stomach, slight and pale as it pressed against the dark waistband of his trousers. The subtle shading of the line of hair that began at his navel and moved to hide behind the cloth. The way the fabric was stretched over the hardness below. All were enough to make Stuart yearn to taste Vince's skin, to bite his belly and draw his tongue down and down again until he knew intimately the feel and weight of what lie beneath.

Primal and without allowance for censure, Stuart pushed himself flat against Vince and grabbed him by a hand at the nape of his neck. He held him fast, threading his fingers through the short hairs as he pulled Vince's head back - angling his neck until he was vulnerable enough and then Stuart sank his teeth playfully against Vince's throat. At the startled needful sound of acceptance, Stuart licked over the small imprints of his teeth and then drew the tasting down the length of Vince's neck from ear to throat. His actions left a slick, moist trail across Vince's skin as Stuart ended his journey by nuzzling against Vince's chest, all the while murmuring about how good Vince tasted.

Blind now to anything but the vintage that was Vince, Stuart freed the man from his grip and ran his hands down Vince's torso as he took a nipple into his mouth. Vince's voice catch as he released a small groan. The play of lips, teeth and tongue over the nub was more than enough to distract him from Stuart's hands as they undid Vince's belt and then his pants.

Vince's head made a small thud as it hit the stall. Shaking it back and forth as if in disbelief, he still managed to watch. Watching the reality of Stuart moving his mouth over Vince's body. Watching as Stuart went to his knees. Vince sucked in a breath, then groaned as Stuart's nuzzling at the sensitive flesh of his stomach turned to biting. Light nips at his body that were eased as Stuart rubbed his face against Vince's belly, letting his hair brush over his skin in the aftermath.

Then just as suddenly, Stuart stopped and yanked on Vince's pants and underwear - taking them down at the same time until the material pooled at his friend's knees.

Vince froze, all motion locked as he looked at Stuart. The need and want a mark across his face. Wordlessly he waited. The truth of his fear plain, but also the fear that Stuart would stop.

Stuart knew the look for what it was and he shivered as it made his cock ache because he knew there would be no stopping. That it would happen now just as he wanted it too.

Running his hands up the warmth of Vince's thighs, Stuart rubbed his face against the rise of Vince's cock. A good length, made hard and a shade darker than Vince's pale skin by the blood that surged underneath - Vince's hard-on was everything Stuart could have wished. And the feel of it, the silken hardness of it against Stuart's cheek - his mouth....

Stuart opened his lips, running them along the shaft from base to tip as he drew the enjoyment and anticipation out for them both. He wasn't in a rush to act, wanting instead to make the moment last and last. Why rush what felt so damn good? He heard each hitch and sigh that fell from Vince as he continued to play, having yet to taste - still spending time on the sensation of how Vince felt. The sounds adding to his reverence of Vince's pleasure and his flesh....

He sighed a hot breath over Vince's skin when he felt Vince's hands sink into his hair. He laughed softly when Vince's grip tightened. Heeding the warning that called to his own sense of needing more NOW. Stuart opened his mouth and laid his claim - taking Vince inside.

Stuart's senses seemed to meld and blur - sight, taste, smell and feel. All was Vince, everything Vince. Stuart moaned as he moved his tongue over the weight of the cock before him, increasing the suction and rhythm as he pulled at Vince's hips - encouraging the man to fuck his mouth.

The thrust and drive of Vince's cock over Stuart's tongue and against the back of his throat was intoxicating. He reveled in being the one to cause this passion in Vince, in being both the instrument played and the conductor orchestrating the show.

When he looked up at Vince from under his dark lashes and saw the fierce expression on his friend's face, Stuart could tell how close he'd taken Vince towards coming. He pulled away, despite the plaintive sound Vince made in protest. With a serious expression, Stuart leaned towards his new goal and began licking Vince's balls. Vince cried out as Stuart sucked on them, shivering under the pressure and tease as Stuart held the suction until Vince had to pull at Stuart's curls. A warning that he was too close to be teased.

Stuart laughed as he moved up, the wet skin of Vince's cock leaving a trail over Stuart's face wherever it touched. Flesh slick, wet with saliva and pre-cum. Stuart rubbed his face over Vince again, marking himself illicitly with the moisture that tasted like salt. The thought of what he must look like - on his knees, mouth swollen from use, hair a tangled mess and face carrying the stain of his progress.... It caused his blood to run hot in his veins, the burn a not so subtle call for him to take it further.

With his mouth back on Vince's flesh, Stuart began pumping the shaft as he focused on the head. Licking it, running his tongue under the drawn back foreskin, teasing it as he stroked it up to almost cover the head before taking the shaft once more into his mouth - all were methods that caused a madness in Vince. Vince was frantic then, murmuring a plea as he said Stuart's name over and over. His world narrowed down to the sensations being caused and the wet slurping sounds of Stuart's dirty tactics. So very close....

Then Vince's voice, rough and broken, called out a demand when Stuart made to pull away for more teasing. "If you stop, I'll kill you." He clutched one of his hands in Stuart's hair, fingers threaded in the dark whorls - making sure that Stuart wouldn't leave him without an end.

It was enough, more than enough to cause Stuart to give in even as he took what he wanted from Vince. To be demanded of, ordered to do - expected sexually. And by Vince.... Stuart loved every second of it.

Fiercely, Stuart worked Vince towards the brink. He pulled and sucked the orgasm out from Vince until with a rush of hot breath, hard jerks and the suction of his mouth - Stuart moaned in chorus to Vince's cry as the man came hard between the velvet vice of Stuart's lips.

Vince sagged against the stall, shaking as he moaned. Stuart's hands gripped tightly at Vince's hips to steady him as the cum burst over his tongue. Greedy for it, for more - Stuart never stopped moving his mouth over Vince's cock. He suckled the length with a wet sound that was obscene and dirty. Watching Vince watching him, knowing that he looked like a good little slut as his lips parted and a small trail of seed escaped to run down his chin. The sensation of that and the feel of Vince's eyes looking down at him made Stuart moan. He pulled off Vince's cock, deliberately running the head over his lips and the length against his cheek. Each brush and rub left more of a wet trail over Stuart's skin as he marked himself, chin to mouth in Vince's come. Covered in Vince....

Gasping for breath, Stuart looked at the man above him. A serious look - one that held as Stuart slowly ran his tongue over his own lips as he'd asked Vince to do before. He could feel Vince on him, taste him on his tongue - all of which caused his cock to throb, still trapped inside his trousers.

Stuart grimaced, then grinned as he shifted on his knees. It was a delicious ache, playfully painful. But caused no more by his tight pants than by the heat in Vince's eyes. And the way Vince looked; sated, dazed. He looked debauched really. Standing there, shirt open and off his shoulders - skin wet from sweat and Stuart's tongue. Pants down and cock wet. Lewd and raunchy by Stuart's design. The sight made Stuart feel decidedly wicked.

He licked slowly over Vince's softening skin, cleaning him for a moment before pulling himself up on his feet again. Stuart used Vince's opened shirt for leverage on his ascent, a slow prowl up until he had them pressed body to body again. Smiling, he hovered over Vince's mouth - staring into his blue eyes as he rubbed his covered cock against Vince's thigh.

Vince gasped at the feeling of rough fabric against his skin, at the feel of Stuart's hard-on underneath. Raising his hands, Vince cupped Stuart's cheeks - watching his fingers sliding over Stuart's wet skin, through the mess they'd both made. The awe of it, the thrill of it was evident in Vince's eyes as he leaned in and licked a line over Stuart's face from chin to mouth. He released a groan at the taste of himself mixed with that of Stuart's flesh.

Stuart answered with a moan, smiling like a naughty boy as Vince's hand reached down and cupped his groin. The moan quickly turned to gasps as Vince rubbed his palm over Stuart's hard-on in a serious tease. Hissing at the sweet constriction, Stuart dove in for a kiss from Vince, taking his mouth until they couldn't breath. Stuart pushed his hand down to cover Vince's own at his groin, pulling back from Vince's lips to look into his eyes. One hot moist breath ghosted from his mouth over Vince's own as Stuart whispered the words they'd been waiting what seemed two life times to hear.

"Take me home, Vince. Take me home...."

 

Finis

Yes, that means "The End." Wanna know why it ends now? On the BRINK of the full shag?

Because MARGO!!!!!!! is nowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww being officially challenged!!! Payment for allllll her begging on list for more S/V fics. The price??? She has to write the continuation of this fic - Stuart and Vince at the loft, sex sex sex....hehe.

It's good to be bad.... tick tock, Margo. tick tock.....


End file.
